In Which Harry Has Night Terrors
by Ads S
Summary: "She closes her eyes and his hand goes around her shoulders; and for now- it's enough."


In Which Harry Has Night Terrors

 _"Monsters don't sleep under your bed; they lurk inside the depths of your head."_

* * *

The first time Harry wakes up screaming. He shoots upright-his black hair sicking to his sweaty hands and his nails clenched inside his palm. He's dimly aware of Ginny rushing into the room to see what has happened- before leaving and promptly returning with a wet cloth. She sits on the bed and wipes his face gently- cupping his chin and whispering sweet nothings. Harry leans into her embrace; resting his forehead on her shoulders- and closing his eyes to calm himself.

He hears the small gasp elicited from the blood on his palms; and he knows that for his sake- Ginny quietly cleans them and pulls off the edges of the bed-sheet to bandage them. Ginny reaches behind him for the forgotten duvet, draping it over both of them and pulling Harry closer. Harry snuggles up against her in a almost fetal position. He laces their fingers together and brings her palm to his shivering mouth; as if assuring himself that she's really there.

Its not until Harry's breath has evened does Ginny allow herself one, shattered sob- a single tear rolling down for the broken state her love is in.

* * *

The second time Harry wakes up to blood in his mouth. Aware that his palms are blood-stained; but not caring- he wipes off all tear tracks and mumbles a wandless _"_ _Muffliato"_ around his room. When he stops thrashing against the wall, he lets out a throaty, piercing yell; bellowing his lungs out and tugging at the roots of his hair. He stops after an eternity, heaving and spluttering for breath. He staggers down the hall; pounding down Ginny's door. She opens the door and he collapses against her; burying his head in the nape of her neck and clutching her to him- like he thinks he will never see her again.

He's writhing in her arms, and she holds him tightly; pulling him as close as humanly possible. It's the third time this week that he's come to her room- and this time she allows herself to cry; her salty tears adding to the dampness of his shirt. She guides him inside; and pulls off his shirt- throwing it along with the rest of his clothes that have to be washed. She turns to go and fetch a wet cloth, and comes face to face with George. Her eyes water anew, because she knows that if Fred were here then they'd be making a wise crack about her just wanting to touch more of Harry; and George smiles, a smile full of sadness- because he knows it too.

He holds up the pail of water and cloth that he brought up for her; just like he had two nights ago when she saw him in the living room and yelled out, "Fred; can you get me a pail of water and a few cloths?"  
Ginny smiles as best as she can through the tears- and makes sure to lean up and kiss George lightly on the cheek; before turning around to attend to Harry.

* * *

The third time he wakes up quietly. Harry lets himself out of his room and goes down to across George in the living room. The fire cackles between them before Harry says in a whisper, "You must hate me."  
George puts down his beer mid-sip and looks at Harry with wide brown eyes; making sure he heard Harry right.  
"You must hate me," Harry lets out one strangled breath, lifting his head and meeting George's eyes with clouded, emerald orbs- swimming with self hatred, "I took from you the single most important thing in your life. If I had let Voldemort kill me back in Year 1; Fred would still be alive. If I had just let him kill me- all you would be saved of all this anguish."

He gets up, not waiting for a reply- and goes back into his room. He collapses into a small corner in the darkest edges of the room; raking his nails- desperately trying to rid himself of the corrupt blood that runs through his veins. His fingers move across his arms, and infernal blood springs free, colouring him with its midnight grasp.

It's how Ginny and Hermione find him 15 minutes later; George and Ron behind them. He's curled up in feral agony; his arms and cheeks dripping with blood. He's rocking back and forth; his neck twitching and his eyes shine with misery. Hermione and Ron run towards him instantly, and Ginny falls into George's arms. She can't bear to see him like this; so fragile and tormented by ghosts of a black past.

Hermione and Ron slowly peel his arms away fro his legs and Hermione starts sobbing when she sees his arms. In sketchy, raw scars- is spelt the word **MURDERER.** Harry reacts when he hears Ron catch his breath, tilting his head and smiling a smile full of blood and despair. He shrugs lightly, "It's what I am isn't it? I'm a murderer; as right as you are a Weasley."  
His eyes glaze over- and he starts to fall down; the loss of blood is affecting him. Hermione braces her hand behind his head, while Ron starts muttering a slew of spells that they've learnt over the years from bandaging Harry both lift him up and place him on his bed, and Harry instinctively curls up against Hermione.

~0~

"What happened to you three out there?" both Ron and Hermione lift their heads simultaneously, as if remembering that George and Ginny are still there. It's Ron who answers, "Harry spent the most time with the Horcruxes. He's been blaming himself since Year 4 for Voldemort returning; since it was his blood that ran in Voldemort's blood essentially. But with the Horcrux, Harry's scar gave him hell. Voldemort wasn't blocking Harry out- so he saw everything whether or not he wanted to."

Hermione continues, having composed herself to string a sentence without dissolving in tears, "The thing was that the connection didn't differentiate between Harry and Voldemort. Sometimes that helped us to find a horcrux- but mostly Harry saw things that's leave any man scarred. It was the worst when Voldemort killed or tortured because in those instances-"  
"-in his mind, he was the one killing and torturing those innocent souls," George finished, aghast.

* * *

The fourth time is after almost a month and Harry wakes up with wet cheeks. His throat is hoarse from crying and his eyes are too misty to discern who is entering his room. Ginny runs in and immediately starts wiping the sweat of his face. Harry braces himself with his hands on the edge of the bed, gripping the bed like a tether to reality.

Ginny is mid-way taking off his shirt when he suddenly snags an arm around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her. She's so surprised that she takes some time to react. but when she does, she pours out all her frustration and fear and love for him. Her hands are resting against his chest, and she feels his erratic heartbeat calm itself slowly as he loses himself in the kiss.

He breaks the kiss just as suddenly as he started it, and his finger follow the crevices of her face. Harry's shoulders sag imperceptibly as his eyes find hers and he says in one tortured breath, "I dreamt that you were dead. That I had killed you, like I killed Remus, Sirius, Fred and everyone else- and it was the worst feeling in the world."  
She sits down beside him and rest her head on his shoulder. She takes his hand and slowly, traces _"I love you,"_ over and over. He tilts his head to kiss her hair in response. She closes her eyes and his hand goes around her shoulders, and for now- it's enough.

* * *

 **I cried while writing this one. One of the hardest things to write and I hope I've done it justice. Review?  
-A  
(Not a PLL Fan)**


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